More Weapons for the Arsenal...

So a due date is approaching: I assured Craig the refined and perfected Chapter One would be complete upon his arrival on March 6 (?) as he’s spending spring break here with us in St. Louis.  It’s sad, I should be rounding out Chapter Two, at the least, but keep finding new and more insightful works of criticism that I want to bring into the fold.

Like most of my students, I sadly approach writing (at least initial drafts) as a marathon, or going to war! A caffeine, adrenaline fueled, 1-2 day enterprise, leaving revision and second-guessing for a later time.  But before I really tackle it, I keep adding weapons to the arsenal, new works of criticism broken down into dozens and dozens of pages of notes… Before I belabor this metaphor, I’ll end by noting I got through three books today, a pace I need to keep up to make it through the last twenty (yes, twenty!) books I want to incorporate into Chapter One:

Julia M. Wright’s  Ireland, India, and Nationalism in Nineteenth-century Literature.  

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Duncan Bell’s Victorian Visions of Global Order: Empire and International Relations in Nineteenth-Century Political Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Philip Leonard’s  Nationality between Poststructuralism and Postcolonial Theory:  A New Cosmopolitanism. New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2005.

Leonard’s book was a bust for me… The points he’s making about the nature of contemporary criticism are sharp, but he dauntingly summarizes and cites every relevant theorist from the past two centuries and it’s difficult to get to the root of what HE actually thinks: what are his truths about literature? Also, I really dislike theory with no application.  It’s philosophy, which can be illuminating, but not my bag baby!

Bell’s work is purely historical, and it’s so refreshing to read a historical text! I didn’t have use for many of the anthology’s articles that weren’t his, but he makes brilliant points about Britian’s fluctuating sense of identity in the nineteenth century.  He notes the anxiety that swept through England following the French Revolution and national unrest that persevered until a sense of stability began to set in in the 1850s, as marked by the Great Exhibition and an age of general affluence.  But as he notes: “…the view of the mid-Victorian era as an age of equipoise needs to be balanced by a recognition of the existence of widespread anxiety over Britain’s place in the world.  Arrogance and pride co-existed with apprehension and frustration” (7). H'es right: it's reductive and irresponsible to look at 19th century Britain as a clearcut colonial bully.  It was suffering through its own growing pains and uncertainties regarding its global conquests which confused it’s very understanding of itself—what I’m pointing out in Thackeray’s writings.

Finally, Julia Wright is another sharp cookie and I’m still in the process of typing up my notes for her.  She has a fascinating approach, examining the nuances of colonialism in Irish fictions which explore English imperialism in India! Furthermore, she pays special attention to the unusual position of Ireland, a colony of Christian, caucasian, English speakers often treated as a different species, much less race. But more on my friend Julia tomorrow.  Night world!

**Oh, and happy 5th birthday to my boy Blue!

Sojourn in St. Louis...

I’ve been very naughty with both my posting and my progress.  As I believe I left off with, on Tuesday I began the cross-country trek from Erie to St. Louis.  I can’t explain the sense of peace and satisfaction I felt (after 7 coffees and eleven listens to the Mumford & Sons album) when I saw the Arch peaking over the horizon! I think Blue was equally relieved as he finally stopped groaning bitterly at his plight of being trapped in the passenger seat for 2 days straight.

 Ga (aka Grandma) had lunch and a soft bed waiting. I slept for 14 hours straight and anxiously awaited Craig’s arrival—after hugging him a dozen times or so I finally stopped fixating on the robbery the week before and my list of ‘what ifs.’  During his days here we watched old movies with Ga, checked out St. Louis from the top of the arch (riding up to the top in crammed ancient, roller-coaster like pods was my least favorite part), had an adventure trying to bathe the dog in glass-walled shower, lunched with the Roses, and planned out next month’s visit when Craig will be on spring break.  Going back to a long-distance relationship reminds me of the beginning of our courtship and of falling in love all over again, which I realize is cheesy, but pretty wonderful nonetheless.  To pursue this course of gushiness, I’ll add that the past few weeks have truly shown me how lucky I am—I come from such an affectionate, hysterical, and supportive family.  It’s been delightful spending extended time with my parents and grandmother as an adult, really get to know them all them in a new way. 

But I haven’t neglected my studies entirely! Craig brought me a handful of books he was able to score from U-Penn via interlibrary loan.  Several on contemporary criticism look especially promising, for as my brilliant friend Eve pointed out the evening I crashed with her Bloomington, postcolonial theory has become reductive, and many critics use it to draw whatever conclusions they like: aka, Laura Berol’s assumption that Barry (of Barry Lyndon) represents a wronged Ireland and Lady Lyndon, England, suffering the brunt of past wrongdoings.  We’re in such a hurry to categorize and label that we forget to explore the truths present in the hazy spots in between.  More on this tomorrow; I’ll express myself more eloquently after my morning clip on the treadmill and some caffeine.  Much more from me in the coming weeks…..

No-go a go-go...and a Palin rant...

So today was a no-go work wise.  Yesterday my mom and I drove to State College (4 hrs away) and back to visit my grandfather at his retirement home.  Today I began packing for tomorrow's trek to St. Louis.  I went through all my book and articles and decided what could remain and what should come with me.  I then moved to the bedroom and did the same with all of my clothing, toiletries, etc.

But what's pressing firmly on the back of my mind is the early morning phone call I received from Craig.  While he slept last night, people picked his lock, climbed the stairs to his second floor apartment and took the plasma TV, X-Box, video games, etc.  I'm guessing the poor cat hit under the couch through it all.  Craig was in his room with the door closed (because the cat is a maniac at night) and the fan running by his head (because the perpetual ringing in his ears, a consequence of an explosion in Iraq, keeps him awake without it).   These people were either professionals or had major balls breaking into a home where an armed veteran lives... And I've been plagued by all the what-ifs... what if he'd woken up? Did they have guns? What would have happened? What would have happened if I was there? Or Blue (the dog) lived with him instead of me right now? I'm trying to get my head around it, but simply can't wait until he flies into St. Louis and I can hug him and see that he's safe...

On a lighter note, my dad and I have been emailing back and forth (which I know seems odd as we're under the same roof, but that's just the Ray-way) about why Sarah Palin makes me cringe.  It's no secret my dad is rather conservative while I'm moderate to liberal.  I truly can't stand the woman and below are my reasons why... For next post, when I arrive in St. Louis on Wednesday,  I will include some pages from the rehashed chapter One.  But for now, here the Palin rant I wrote after listening to her interview on the situation in Egypt...

Palin says: " And what would give me great joy is if what would become irrelevant is just the untruthful the misreporting out there.  I want the mainstream media, and I’ve said this for a couple of years now, I want to help ‘em. I have a journalism degree, that is what I studied.  I understand that this cornerstone of our democracy is a free press, is sound journalism. I want to help them build back their reputation and allow Americans to be able to trust what it is that they are reporting. We’re so far from being able to trust what so many of  the mainstream media personalities, characters, feed the American public that it scares me for our country. What would give me great joy is what would become irrelevant is the misreporting that comes out of the mainstream media."

 I would tear apart a freshman paper (or speech) for such spiraling, empty verbiage.  

 "Regan" and "America" and "God/Bible/Jesus" seem to be here go to phrases throughout...

 

She doesn't speak like an intelligent woman; she speaks like a hick who believed everything her rural "folks' told her without question: immigrants bad, Jesus is everything, pick yourself up by your boot heels...  This might sound shallow, but I'll give it to her, I really respect her for her appearance: she takes care of herself, is fit, attractive without trying to appear sexy.  But when she speaks, I cringe: instead of "them" she says 'em.'  and "I have a BA in Journalism" as her qualifier for understanding the media situation in Egypt. If the BA (or accrediting institution) was any good she could speak properly.  

Plus, Obama has degrees from Ivy league schools, as does Bush, I believe, but you sound like a moron when you drop that as your qualifier for solving problems.  Also, I thought FOX news was the conservative holy grail? It's #1 in the ratings in covering Egypt!

And I fully acknowledge that I know so little about what's going on over there, but when I listened to all of her comments I felt that I'm more well-informed that she is, which scares me to death.  Also, I can't believe she did a reality show, that her daughter (only famous for getting knocked up), was on Dancing with the Stars (as if teen pregnancy is something to glorify) and her younger daughter goes on Facebook calling people "faggots."  They're classless. Briston is going on tours preaching "abstinence," hauling in $200K a speech, and it's like Roseanne Barr visiting high schools to tell kids how to "eat right," it's absurd!  In short, if she is going to be the first female VP or President of this nation, I think I'll talk to Craig  about moving to Canada... 

**My dad could make a plethora of points supporting Palin, thus I welcome him to start his own blog! ;-)

Winding tunnels of research...

So all that I'll accomplish today is typing up the aforementioned notes from the aforementioned Apes and Angels. It makes me think of how hard it was for doctoral students 30-40yrs ago who had to plunk ALL of their work out on a typewriter and a mistake could lead to a complete overhaul! Still, it's daunting typing up hundreds of pages of notes (which you do when you're neurotic like me) and I long for future days when my kids will think typing notes out of book is primitive.  They'll simply read passages aloud or scan them and they'll magically appear properly formatted in their document!

Anyways, typing up notes is a remarkable accomplishment for my current mental state.  I think I definitely fried some braincells during the toilet cleaning escapade... I got home from Buffalo this afternoon and could barely form a sentence, plus it was all I could do from heading to bed at 4pm! Still, it was a wonderful trip, catching up with Jess and Chief & Ally and meeting baby Coraline.  It's wonderful to have those magical friendships where you don't see them for a year or more, then sit down to dinner and you haven't missed a step! Jess still remains one of the most wonderful people to talk to, conversations ranging from politics to pop culture, to teaching to old friends, and Chief & Ally are absolutely glowing in their parenthood.  I can already tell they're those loving yet cool and collected parents that every frazzled couple envies!

But back to my notes... driving back from Buffalo I realized that I keep finding an interesting idea or book, and I start following that train of thinking, which takes me to another book, another theory, another concept, and I follow that "tunnel" which is leading me further and further away from my original purpose.  One could literally follow these tunnels of knowledge forver.  It's time to sit down and write! To be continued...

Don't hand me that doctorate yet...

So yesterday was a brilliant "work" day for me.  While waiting for the car to be maintenance-d at the Toyota dealership I read for two hours, reviewing L. Perry Curtis's Apes and Angels, an incredible book on cartoon depictions of the Irish, and Edgar Harden's collection of previously unpublished Thackeray letters.  After a brief stop at the gym, where two old biddies gossiped through my elliptical time, only pausing to share their open-mouthed, phlegm-ridden coughs with the rest of the Y, I came home.

Awaiting me was a package from my adviser--a hard copy of my latest prospectus with her last round of comments.  I spend several hours revisiting and reworking the prospectus, then officially sent it to the department and my readers.  So, after an uber-productive day, I was feeling quite accomplished, the whole project seeming quite possible... but then I was schooled by a toilet! Seriously--as part of my routine here in Erie, I do a daily to chore to prevent me from feeling like a complete mooch on my parents.  And my PhD-aspiring brain was outwitted by a rust stained toilet: unable to get out the stains, I poured in a toxic combination of chemicals, and once headache and nausea hit, I finally decided to abandon my mission.  This left me to a night of overall-icky-ness, not to be subdued by hot tea and bad TV.  Feeling a bit better this morning, I'm going to take my time driving up to Buffalo to see Jess and Ally & Chief and new baby Coraline.

Last thoughts on Laura Berol's article:  I was too hasty before.  Yes, she's making insightful comments about Thackeray's representations of nineteenth century "Irish Question" in his picaresque novel set in the 18th century, but like Deborah Thomas, she pushes too far in trying to attribute political meaning to Barry's depravity.  You see, Barry is actually Irish, but his mother claims their English (and therefore superior), and thus their Irish family hates and abuses them.  When he runs away at 15 yrs old (after being tricked into believing he's shot and killed an English officer), he falls into a ring of crooks in Dublin, then experiences even more cruelty at the hand of the English and Prussian armies before forming a gambling/con-artist team with this Uncle Cornelius.  The last third of the novel details how he virtually stalks the rich English widow, Lady Lyndon, marries her, then locks her away, abuses her, and runs through her fortune.  In Thackeray & Slavery, Deborah A. Thomas suggests Thackeray is abusive to Lady Lyndon because of the abuse he himself experienced as a slave/soldier in the Prussian army.  Berol insists that Irish Barry's treatment of the English Lady Lyndon is retribution for all of the abuse he's received at the hands of the English, making the marriage a metaphor for Irish-English relations (in the model of Jonathan Swift's The Injured Lady).

But in reality, as I understand Stanley Kubrick captures in his film Barry Lyndon, Barry's an abusive, manipulative D-bag because that's all he's ever known! From his cousins, to the crooks in Dublin, various military experiences to travelling in corrupt circles of the finest courts of Europe, Barry's learned the only way to get ahead in this world is through violence and trickery! He's simply a product of his experiences, going to far as to insist to the reader: "Dare and the world will yield."  What makes this novel remarkable is the "global-ness" it represents in the 18th century.  Even though he can barely read, Barry speaks English, German, Czech, French and a bit of Spanish and Italian.  As I mentioned before, soldiers from all over Europe come together in their misery when they are forced into servitude by the Prussian army, and the novel hosts a slew of international characters (Jewish banker, Italian gambler, German countess, etc.)  It's also telling that as Barry sits and old, penniless man in a debtor's prison, what he really longs for are the rolling green fields of Ireland... so much can be done with the nuances of the novel, and that's what I'll concentrate on (when I get back from Buffalo...)

How author/celebrity worship is ruining criticism!

First off, two friends were kind enough to mention that they'd read this blog, so I better start using the spell-check application! I thought it was just my dad occasionally checking, but I'll humor myself into thinking I have a readership and put in a little effort henceforth.

I saved a boatload of time today--instead of retyping all of the relevant passages from Barry Lyndon, I opened the novel up on gutenberg.org, (thank God for the 100yr copyright lapse), searched for the passages I'd marked in the book, and copied and pasted them in my 40+ page Word document of Thackeray's original writings I have lined up for my CH 1 rewrite (which should only be 40 pages itself... anyone else seeing my problem here...)  After each passage I made several observations/insights and am nearly ready to start putting this complex jigsaw puzzle together.

On another note, I read Laura Berol's interesting article, "Irish Prisoners and the Indictment of British Rule" which focuses on works by Thackeray and Trollope.  My only concern is that it seems to place the Thackeray and Trollope in the light of champions of the Irish, speaking out against English oppression.  yes, Thackeray's wife was Anglo-Irish and Trollope lived in Ireland working for the postal service and both formed many attachments in the country.  And yes, in novels like Eye for an Eye, Trollope casts the Irish-English problem in the form of two characters, an upper class Englishman and the poor Irish girl he impregnates and won't marry, clearly sympathizing with the Irish position.  But such metaphors cast the Irish as rustic, naive, helpless, etc. Similarly, in Barry Lyndon and the Irish Sketchbook, Thackeray is clearly exploring/questioning the English treatment of both the Irish and Catholics, but he's by no means their champion.

I think this has become a problem in literary criticism: sharp scholars start writing/analyzing such works while already idolizing the author they are considering; instead of reading objectively, they are reading for the purpose of seeing the author as they want to see him/her.  If you told me Mark Twain wasn't even a tiny bit racist or Hemingway wasn't the least bit sexist, I'd ask if we're reading the same books.  Thackeray was torn, and that's what's driving my study and, what I feel, makes him so interesting as an author.  He was torn about his views on Irishmen, Catholics, Jewish citizens, and was pretty much racist towards Indians and Blacks throughout his career, but all of this is an original reflection of British political and social upheaval in the mid-nineteenth century.  Food for thought.... now on to real food... I made lasagna...

Barry Lyndon's demise!

So I finished rereading Barry Lyndon; I'd restarted it dozens of time but this is only my second time finishing it in completion.  Thackeray also struggled to finish (writing) it, and considered it one of his worst novels.  He told his daughter not to read it and that she wouldn't like.  It's certainly his most racy novel and the anti-hero/narrator makes Becky Sharp look like Donna Reed! But it's really fascinating in what it says about international relations. Barry is Irish, but as his parents spent several years in England, his mom demands the Irish countryside refer to her as the "English Widow" and her son as "English Redmond."

Much later in the novel, when he deserts the English army in Germany, he's kidnapped and forced into "white slavery," aka the Prussian Army, which my dad informed me actually wasn't all that uncommon in the 18th century.  What struck a chord with me was the variety of fellow-kidnappees he met, a genius Englishman, a forlorn Italian, Germans, French, Spanish, etc., all equalized and joined together by their awful fates.  Much of the novel seems to suggest this cosmopolitan society among various scenes in Europe and I think will make for great material for CH 1 and other portions of the dissertation.

Tonight I plan to type up my notes (highlighted portions) of the novel and reread a great article on Barry Lyndon and captivity and how it comments on Irish/English relations.  Will share that wisdom tomorrow!